Author's Note: The Van Horn Mansion is a known haunted house in Newfane, NY. And if you're ever in the area, the diner referenced in the story is at the corner of Rts. 425 and 104 in Cambria, NY.

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"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam didn't look from the folder he was studying with newspaper clippings and pages printed from blogs about some suspicious goings on at an old house up near Lake Ontario.

"You sure?" Dean wasn't feeling 100% - or anything close to it - himself. But being behind the wheel again since before - well, just since before - he was starting to feel a little bit more like his old self.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

Being able to run interference between Sammy and a big scary clown was kind of a nice feeling too. Even if she wasn't that big.

"It's just - I know you don't like clowns but I've never seen you so -" don't use the word freak - "so spooked before."

"Well I haven't had my Wheaties yet today." Sam said. He smiled but it faded. "I'm kinda tired too. It's just not what I was expecting to see when I got out of the car."

Dean knew - Sam was tired because for the past two weeks straight, he'd been single-handedly running the family. Since Dean got out of the hospital - no, since Pam's death - Sam had been driving the car, picking the motels and the restaurants, doing the laundry, replenishing their supplies. After - after - Sam had gotten Dean to the hospital, stayed with him 24/7, or more like 22/5 since Dean was there five days and Sam did on occasion take a bathroom or food break. The rest of the time, he handled insurance, ran interference with nurses and therapists, appeased the police officers investigating Dean's 'attack', encouraged Dean when he had to, comforted him when he could, signed every paper, and memorized every particular of discharge. Now for the past three days, he'd been overseeing every single minute of Dean's life, eating, sleeping, painkillers and antibiotics. Up close when he could. From a distance when he had to.

No wonder Sam was tired, Dean was tired just thinking about it.

And Sam hadn't had his Wheaties yet because they were twenty-seven minutes past "Clown Zero" and no other restaurant, diner, or fast food joint had appeared. All along this road was nothing but acres and acres of corn fields, apple trees, dairy farms and goats.

"I don't think I've ever been so far out the backside of nowhere before." Dean said,

"Now that's a visual."

Dean gave him a 'ha ha' look.

"You know Sam -."

"Dean - it's just a - a - phobia. All right? It's nothing. Lots of people don't like clowns. I don't care what Dr. Phil or whoever says about positive thinking or positive visualization or whatever it is, I'm not wearing that t-shirt you got me after the raksasha."

"You still have that t-shirt?"

"Dean -."

"I'm just saying, if you still have it -."

"Dean."

"All right. That's not what I was going to say anyway."

"What then?" Sam finally pulled his attention away from the file to look at Dean.

"Just want t'be sure you're all right."

"It was just a clown."

"A clown you were terrified of, Sammy."

"What's your point? What're you getting at?"

And here came the most ridiculous thing Dean had ever said, and that was saying a lot.

"What if Lilith came dressed as a clown?"

Sam stared at him so long and so hard, Dean was surprised he didn't go up in flames.

"Seriously?"

"You know what Bobby says, evil is stupid but it's clever. I'm just saying..."

"Lilith, number one demon in hell, biggest threat to mankind, self-appointed bringer of the Apocalypse, dressed as a clown?"

"I'm just saying."

"I think lack of oxygen gave you brain damage." Sam went back to the folder on his knee. "So - Van Horn Mansion. Newfane, NY. Built in 1824, known stop on the Underground Railroad. Open for tours every Sunday until four pm..."

But Dean wasn't done.

"Really Sam, what would you do if she came to you as a clown?"

And Sam stared at him again.

"I'd take her out, all right? What'd you think?"

Dean almost believed him, he said it so earnestly, so seriously. But he'd also seen Sam's face back at the diner when his pint-sized nightmare was still a hundred feet away from him.

"Crap." Sam said. He was looking at the map.

"What?"

"We missed Rte 104. We missed the turn for Newfane."

"How far back?"

"Fifteen miles." He looked and sounded a little more disturbed than the situation called for, Dean thought.

"That's not so bad, fifteen miles - that's..." He calculated and realized why Sammy was so bent out of shape. "...at the diner."

Suddenly, Mr. 'Big & Tough' didn't look so big and tough anymore. He practically buried himself in the map.

"I'll find another way. There's got to be another road that'll take us there. We've passed a lot of roads, at least one has got to take us there."

"Isn't 104 the most direct route?" Dean asked.

"So we come up around the back, what's the big deal?"

Seemed like a pretty big deal the way Sammy was sweating over it.

"All right. Just gimme a road and we'll turn. We're practically to the lake, we'll have to turn soon anyway or start swimming."

"Okay. Um - the lake. Turn right. Rt. 18 will take us to 78. That'll take us to the mansion. And there's some restaurants not far from there too, according to the article from this touristy magazine."

"Good."

They drove on for awhile, past orchards and old houses, lake shore and fishing boats. Sam packed up the file folder and pushed it on the seat between them.

"You think she would?" He asked, finally. "Come dressed as a clown?"

He wanted to know, he really wanted to know if it could happen, and he asked it like he absolultely believed Dean knew the answer. Dean thought they needed to look at it as a possibility.

"The question is, what would you do if she did? What if that clown back at the diner had been Lilith?"

"But - you were there." Sam said it like it was the only answer to the question.

"What if I'm not there?"

"Where're you gonna be?"

"I don't know - what if we get separated?"

"Wha - but - separated how?"

Honestly, Dean couldn't believe Sam was really this scared of the prospect. He'd only meant to address a possible complication in their whole 'save the world' scheme, not terrify his brother.

"It happens Sammy. We get separated. What happens if - what if Lilith takes me out?"

The change happened so fast Dean wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it. The fear on Sam's face evaporated in an instant, replaced with iron determination.

"She goes down, that's what happens. She so much as looks at you funny and I don't care if she's a clown or a freaking T-Rex, I'll rip her lungs out."

"Okay. Well, I guess that answers that question." Dean said, trying not to smile. Check 'fear of clowns' off the list.

SPN SPN SPN

Later that night, in a quiet motel, close enough to the lake to hear the waves breaking on the beach, Dean felt his way across the darkened room, headed for the bathroom. He flicked the light on, and looked back to make sure he hadn't disturbed Sam.

What he saw made him smile.

There on his bed, with his blankets kicked out of the way, Sam slept soundly. The bathroom light cut across his chest and the t-shirt he was wearing as pajamas.

'I love clowns....I had three for breakfast'

The End